Why I shouldn't date Jews

Following my last failed relationship with a goy, my mother begged me to try J-date.

I shrugged, figuring, what could it hurt?

Well, it’s been 3 months, and it did hurt. A lot.

Bad J-date #1 – We got together after about two weeks of talking. We met for drinks and dinner. Five minutes after we sat down at the table, there was a hand on my thigh. That was the end of that – five minutes?!?, but I stuck it out. After an uncomfortable dinner, he walked me to my car, and asked if he should follow me back to my place or if I should follow him back to his. Or not.

Bad J-date #2 – He picked me up, and took me out to dinner, which was great. After dinner, we went back to my place to plan the next step. We decided to watch “Garden State,” cuddling most of the movie. Following the movie, there was a rather enjoyable make-out session. We took a break, and I turned on the TV in attempt to distract myself from doing what I really wanted to do – riding him at a gallop until his knees buckled and his eyes rolled back, squeezing him until he popped like warm champagne. He thought I was ignoring him, and left. Sucks to be him.

Bad J-date #3 – He had a nasally Brooklyn accent. It ended rather quickly.

Bad J-date #4 – Not only did this guy turn out to be roughly my father’s age, but when I politely declined to stay for dinner, he called me a cock tease. Also, the wind blew off his toupee, but that was just funny.

Bad J-date #5 – We met for coffee, and went to a movie. During the *entire* movie, he felt it necessary to observe that the female lead’s breasts were much bigger than mine, and how much sexier I’d be with bigger breasts. Then he spilled his drink on me when I wouldn’t put my hand in his lap.

Bad J-date #6 – Adding an inch or two to your height is one thing. Adding a FOOT when my profile CLEARLY states I’m 5’9” – especially considering I showed up wearing 3” heels – not the best idea. I wanted to ask the waiter for a booster seat.

Bad J-date #7 – This one was my fault. My mistake here was going. He left me two messages about getting together, each of which sounded like he was setting up a conference call – not a date. Then he asked if I had a “something bad happened” call set up just in case he turned out to be a loser. Five minutes later, my phone rang – it was my mother, who helpfully informed me that either her house was burning down or that she had broken a nail. I chose neither, but still got the hell out of there quickly.

Bad J-date #8 – Heterosexual males generally do not wear make-up. Especially not more make-up than I wear.

Bad J-date #9 – Okay, this one wasn’t actually a date, but it was loony just the same. First, his profile describes in great detail what he wants – including someone who would have sex with people watching and meets extremely precise physical requirements (which I wouldn’t and didn’t, but hey, he contacted me). Anyway, we were talking on IM, and he called me a “bama.” I had absolutely no idea what this meant (I’ve since learned), which prompted him to say that he didn’t have time for someone as clueless as me. About a month later, I got another email from him. I mentioned our previous experience, which he had apparently forgotten. He responded that he had “no idea what the fuck youre talking about.” I thanked him for being so polite, and wished him good luck. His response? “you obviously are a crazy pyscho, and totally desperate. go rid the world of yourself.”

So you can see why I’m *this* close to giving up on Jewish men altogether. Short of the one good date (see #2) which ended badly, my experiences have sucked big fat ugly hairy unwashed unwiped ass.

For my mother’s sake, someone prove me wrong.

To sum up:
DO be Jewish;
DO be decently within my age group (if you had experienced or were near experiencing puberty the year I was born, you’re too old);
DON’T try to feel me up on the first date (unless invited);
DON’T complain about my breasts;
DON’T wear make-up;
DON’T be pathetically insecure;
DON’T be 5’3”;
DON’T talk like you’re from the ghetto - if you DO talk like you’re from the ghetto, please be joking;
DON’T be insane/stupid;
DO wipe your ass;
DON’T contact me if you needed the summary for clarification.